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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27279373">On the Tides of Desire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSinfulwolf/pseuds/TheSinfulwolf'>TheSinfulwolf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal, Demons, M/M, Mermaids, Pirates, Ship Boarding, Violence, hammock sex, handjobs, implied threesome, soul snatching</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:28:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,419</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27279373</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSinfulwolf/pseuds/TheSinfulwolf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Pirate Captain Arturo finds a lonely merchant vessel flying British Naval colours out in the Atlantic. Hoping for a quick score he sets in motion a series of events that could damn his soul, and that of his crew. The real problem... he may enjoy it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Prose From the Abyss</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>On the Tides of Desire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlagueClover/gifts">PlagueClover</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is just a fun little Gay Pirate Porn story I wrote for my dear friend PlagueClover. If you like this, check out her stuff too, she likes dark M/M sex very much, and is very skilled at writing it.<br/>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlagueClover/pseuds/PlagueClover<br/>https://twitter.com/CloverErotica</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <span class="u">
      <strong>On the Tides of Desire</strong>
    </span>
  </p>
</div><p><br/><br/><br/>Arturo Colina stood on the bow of his ship with an extended spyglass raised to his eye. The salt tinged winds that snapped at his long coat told him a storm was brewing, but he saw a prize far more exciting upon the horizon. A singular ship, flying British Naval colours, but certainly nothing more than a merchant’s ship.<br/><br/>Grin curling his lips Arturo lowered the glass and snapped it shut. Grasping some nearby rigging he spun and faced the half of the crew that were currently on deck. Sweaty from their work beneath the sun they looked up at their captain with baited breath.<br/><br/>“Drop the sails. We have quarry and a prize afore us,” Arturo said, and the crew let out a great cheer before they rushed to their positions. Warnings were called down into the hold below as sails were dropped to let the wind catch in the sails. <br/><br/>The <em>Plaga Trebol</em> cut through the waves as the wind filled the canvas above. Arturo was grinning as he dropped down to the deck proper and began to make his way to the helm. Cavalier boots stained with salt tapped against the boards of his deck while his sailors scurried along the rigging. Below he knew they were preparing powder and weapons to storm the vessel ahead.<br/><br/>Climbing the steps to the helm, Arturo paused by the woman currently behind the wheel. Her red hair, even held beneath a bandana wrapped around her head, still managed to flutter in the wind. She turned green eyes to him, sweat glistening on her features. A few beads rolling along her neck and into the cleavage offered by the partially open blouse she wore. Catching the furrow of her fine brows though, Arturo rolled his eyes.<br/><br/>“Yes Raicheal?” Arturo asked of her as the crew upon the deck broke into a shanty. Something about stealing a lady’s bodice.<br/><br/>“You feel the storm no? We should be looking for safe harbour, not chasing a lonely merchant vessel. One flying the bloody White Ensign no less,” his first mate said, her Irish accent colouring every word.<br/><br/>Arturo frowned, pulling out his spy glass again and looked towards the distant ship that was slowly growing ever closer as the <em>Plaga Trebol</em> was carried across the sea. He took a long look then closed the spy glass.<br/><br/>“Nope. Just a White Ensign. Not bloody at all,” he said.<br/><br/>“I will fucking hit you,” Raicheal said.<br/><br/>“Listen. If its flying the white Ensign, they have something of value. For them to risk a storm and go without an escort, its something secret. That, I want in my hold. Besides, since when do storms ever bother you?” Arturo asked the woman.<br/><br/>“They don’t. But they’ll bother this ship. Still, you’re the captain. Let’s see what they got, and hope its worth your curiosity,” Raicheal said, and Arturo glanced upwards. He could easily see the flapping cloth of the white ensign now. <br/><br/>“Helmsman,” Arturo shouted above the din of his rowdy crew’s shanty. By God they really could not sing well. A few shouts carried Arturo’s single word down below decks, and soon enough a stocky man emerged from below. Barefoot he moved up the stairs.<br/><br/>Without a word spoken Raicheal released the helm, and the newcomer took her place. The Irish woman frowned at Arturo, before walking down the steps.<br/><br/>“I’ll get my weapons,” she said.<br/><br/>“Excellent,” Arturo said and pulled out his spyglass again.<br/><br/>The merchant vessel was close now. There was a man at the aft waving a flag, trying to hail them. Behind him though, redcoats with their muskets were lining up along the edges, in their perfectly disciplined way.<br/><br/>“Seems they’re suspicious already boys. Fly the Jolly Roger, let’s make them soil themselves,” Arturo commanded, and a man grasped two flags before scampering up the rigging to the peak of the mast.<br/><br/>The black fabric bearing the white skull and crossed bones was soon snapping openly in the wind, just as Raicheal emerged from below decks, a cutlass and axe on each hip, along with four flintlock pistols strapped in a sash and strapped across her belly. Arturo gave her a simple nod before he looked to the vessel ahead.<br/><br/>The man that had been waving flags had tossed them away and Arturo could see orders being shouted. The redcoats levelled their muskets towards the <em>Plaga Trebol</em>. Waiting a few more heartbeats, Arturo smirked.<br/><br/>“If they’re willing to die, it’s got to be something good. Fly the bloody red,” Arturo shouted, and a cheer went up among the crew. The black of the Jolly Roger was pulled down, and in its place the red flag bearing the skull and crossbones flew.<br/><br/>The flats of axeheads and cutlasses began to crack against the railing of the ship as they came closer. Arturo looked over the side of the ship, but saw no cannon ports. Just a beautiful hold waiting to be emptied. He turned to look at the helmsman.<br/><br/>“Get us in cannon range, keep us out of musket range,” he said, before shouting at the riggers to adjust the sails. <br/><br/>The helmsman spun the wheel, as pulley’s hoisted sails upwards.<br/><br/>“Load the chain shot,” Arturo shouted, and the command was carried to the gunners below decks.<br/><br/>Moving to the edge of his ship, Arturo looked down over the railing. Below he knew the gunners were loading the powder, the wadding, and the two heavy iron balls connected by thick chain. They were ramming it all into place before preparing the fuse and opening the ports on the side.<br/><br/>When the ports opened and the muzzles of the cannons poked out, Arturo looked up. They were alongside the British vessel now, though far enough away that it was difficult to make out the faces of the soldiers.<br/><br/>“Fire,” Arturo shouted, and listened to his crew echo the single word.<br/><br/>The boom sounded and great wafts of smoke billowed upwards from the cannons as they launched back inside the ports. Arturo though watched the first volley as those chain linked cannon balls sailed across the sea between him and his prey.<br/><br/>The hit was a violent fury as chains tore through masts and sent the great beams toppling to the decks. Men ran and screamed as large splinters shot out and struck them. He even watched one low shot tear off a man’s head, and smash another’s to a bloodied pulp.<br/><br/>“Grape shot,” Arturo didn’t take his eyes from the vessel, or the soldiers aboard it. He could see the panic now among their crew; they had no way to fight back and the <em>Plaga Trebol</em> was well armed.<br/><br/>The pirates aboard stomped their feet and kept cracking their weapons against the ship’s railing. They jeered and shouted as they stirred the cauldron of their own blood lust. In their midst Raicheal had her cutlass and axe raised above her head, stirring the pot as only she could, all while the gunners prepared their next volley.<br/><br/>Once the cannons pushed out from their ports again, Arturo gave the command to fire. The boom of the cannons echoed over the waves that both ships plowed through. Tiny iron balls flung to the other ship, and while the Redcoats tried ducking for cover, the railing and few barrels on deck provided little. Men were torn to pieces, blood splashed across the deck as screams filled the air.<br/><br/>“Give em another,” Arturo demanded as the other helmsman attempted to steer his ship closer to bring the Redcoats in range. <br/><br/>“Prepare to board them you dogs,” Arturo yelled and some of his crew even howled as they stomped their feet.<br/><br/>Grappling hooks were pulled from barrels, and hooked planks were pushed up from below decks. A few of the British soldiers were aiming their muskets, about to fire when the cannons went off again. More men fell, chunks of them torn away from their bodies. Only a few managed to fire, and their shots mostly hit the sides of the <em>Plaga Trebol</em>. One pirate clutched at his gut, blood flowing freely between his fingers. Others pulled him back as the ships came closer, the Redcoats trying to reload.<br/><br/>But legendary British discipline did no good for their sea legs, and soon the grappling hooks were being thrown across the gap between both ships. Planks dropped down, grasping onto the railing of the other ship. <br/><br/>As the merchant vessel’s crew tried desperately to pry them loose, Raicheal led the charge across shouting something in Irish. Arturo laughed as she jumped amid the British, her steel catching the sunlight before quickly getting smeared in crimson. The foe fell before her, with split skulls and ribs, or slashed throats.<br/><br/>In her wake, the remainder of the boarding party charged forward. Their own cutlasses raised high as they fired flintlock pistols at the British. Arturo saw an officer step out from a cabin one hand behind his back as he fired at the invading pirates.<br/><br/>As smoke burst from his weapon, a man fell from the plank with a hole through his chest. The officer should have paid more attention to Raicheal though, as her axe buried in the man’s gut. He let out a most ungentlemanly scream as he doubled over. The Irish woman then put one of her flintlocks against the side of his head and fired.<br/><br/>As whatever hopes and dreams he had painted the stairs leading up to the helm she tossed the used weapon and broke another sailor’s nose. A pirate soon cut him down, and Arturo moved to climb up onto one of the planks.<br/><br/>Sabre in one hand, pistol in the other, he strode to his prize while his crew cut down all who resisted on the deck. Blood was sticky upon the wooden planks, and pirates hauled open the door to delve into the hold. It did not take long for the screams to echo up.<br/>u<br/>“They had their chance you dogs. The Bloody Red flies now,” Arturo shouted, making his way towards the cabin beneath the helm. The very one the officer had emerged from. <br/><br/>He stepped over corpses, very few of them his own men, and opened the door calmly.<br/><br/>Stepping inside the cabin Arturo immediately caught the waft of sex. Closing the doors behind him to shut out the sounds of slaughter, he looked about. He spotted a hammock against the back wall that must have belonged to the captain of the ship. Before that officer had taken it over of course. There was also a table covered in documents, maps, and a single plate of food.<br/><br/>On the other side of the table though sat a very handsome man, bound in iron manacles and gagged. Dark eyes looked up from under dark bangs, regarding Arturo calmly. The pirate captain smirked, letting his eyes run down over the shirtless captive, savouring the olive toned skin and the hard muscle that he saw.<br/><br/>“Well, this is a bit of a surprise,” Arturo said as he walked around the table, he eyes descending further as he let the tip of his blade scrape across the wooden surface between him and this beautiful man. A man who made no attempts to speak, or show a hint of fear.<br/><br/>A simple pair of trousers were snug around his hips, but he wore nothing upon his feet. His eyes though followed Arturo, almost with curiosity.<br/><br/>While outside the sound of fighting was fading, Arturo lifted his sabre until the point was grazing the clean shaven cheek of the captive before him. The steel slid beneath the fabric of the gag, pressing hard against skin, but the man didn’t flinch. Just stared.<br/><br/>“Well, aren’t you the curious one,” Arturo said, and let his eyes go over the documents. They mostly looked like letters of some sort. Private perhaps. It was a shame he didn’t read English, but with the officer dead and not knowing who the receiver was, blackmail seemed too distant a prospect to bother with.<br/><br/>A look at the map showed him little except the Atlantic ocean, the coast of the 13 Colonies, and of course Britain itself. There was a plotted course running from the Carribean back to London, but no other hints. So Arturo pulled on his blade, removing the gag from the captive’s mouth as silence fell outside.<br/><br/>With the linen clear, Arturo couldn’t help but admire the man’s soft lips. Not a hint of cracking from the salt on the air. Just perfect, and inviting. The man smiled, and Arturo felt himself stiffening within his trousers. Oh this man was certainly coming with them.<br/><br/>“So, why do they have you all chained up. It’s like a silver platter for me,” Arturo said, and a rough laugh slipped from him. It was deep and slithered right into Arturo’s libido. He was almost painfully erect, and he was tempted to see what the man would do with his cock if he pulled it out now.<br/><br/>“Because the British like to think they have things under control,” the man said in his deep rough voice. It scraped across Arturo’s mind, and had his mouth watering. His eyes trailed downwards again, to the man’s crotch, and found the hint of an erection of his own pushing against his pants. <br/><br/>Well, that explained the sex smell in here. And perhaps a hint to what was in the letters. And why the officer had been so late onto the deck.<br/><br/>“They have lots of ways to control. So why the chains for you?” Arturo asked, pulling his eyes upwards again.<br/><br/>“Because they believe I’m dangerous,” the man said, and at that Arturo chuckled. He let his sword run along the man’s shoulder, down over his chest. He pressed hard enough to indent the skin, yet the man still didn’t flinch.<br/><br/>“So why not just shoot you?” Arturo said with a smirk.<br/><br/>When the doors opened he stepped away from the man, not wanting to make the mistake of underestimating him. He kept his sabre up, pointing towards the man’s chest before glancing over to see who was coming in.<br/><br/>Raicheal stood in the doorway, spattered in blood. It caked her face, ran over her face, down into her cleavage. <br/><br/>“There’s not a bloody thing on this ship worth taking. We took a crate of lemons for our own larder, and some salted beef, but the rest of the hold is filled with beaver pelts. From Quebec if the stamps on the crates are right,” she said, before turning her eyes towards the chained man.<br/><br/>“Maps show the course coming from the Carribean, nothing about Quebec,” Arturo said with a frown, glancing back at the maps, then up at the man seated before him. He suddenly wished he’d kept someone alive.<br/><br/>“We should slit his throat and leave the ship stranded,” Raicheal said, earning a frown from Arturo, though he couldn’t take his eyes off the gorgeous man before him. A man who stared at him with those beautiful dark eyes.<br/><br/>“No. I think this ship was dedicated to bringing him to England. I say we keep him, see what advantages that can bring us,” Arturo said. Was this man the secret that this ship had plunged out to sea for?<br/><br/>“It won’t bring anything to us except death and trouble,” Raicheal said, and the man didn’t even move. He fascinated Arturo. Turned him on. He also had no intention of this being a completely wasted attack.<br/><br/>“He comes back with us. That’s my final word,” Arturo said, tearing his eyes from the stranger to glare at his first mate. She returned the look, and from the way her hands were flexing around the grip of her axe, she had fully intended to do far more than slit his throat. That tickled at the back of his mind, but he wasn’t sure why.<br/><br/>“Very well. Where is he staying?” Raicheal asked, and Arturo looked back at the captive.<br/><br/>“My quarters. Might as well keep him comfortable.”<br/><br/>Over the next half an hour, the crew of the <em>Plaga Trebol</em> carried what little haul they deemed worthwhile back to their own hold. It was enough to restock some provisions and save on costs back in harbour, but nothing else. The pelts wouldn’t even fetch a good price, unless they happened to find the precise merchant. And that was going to be more hassle to fence than it was worth.<br/><br/>The crew had all stared at the stranger as he was led from one ship to the other. Raicheal stood on the helm glaring, but the captive didn’t so much as glance at her, instead keeping his gaze directly ahead as Arturo himself directed the man to his personal quarters and left him there in his chains.<br/><br/>Returning to the deck, he ordered the merchant vessel burned, and soon had the <em>Plaga Trebol</em> sailing back south west. Back towards safe harbour before whatever storm was brewing reached them. Though there still wasn’t a dark cloud in the sky, the wind was an ill one. It suited the crew’s mood after the lack of booty to be found.<br/><br/>Standing on the helm, Arturo looked back. In the distance he saw the flames upon the sea as the British vessel burned. The wind caught in his face, blowing his ponytail back, and he sighed as he looked forward.<br/><br/>“Can’t win them all captain,” the helmsman said, and Arturo nodded, picturing his first mate’s hand flexing around the haft of her axe.<br/><br/>“Certainly can’t Marcel. But a loss still stings,” Arturo said, and the helmsman shrugged.<br/><br/>“It does. So long as we don’t do anything stupid to make up for it. The lads still live, and we got food and rum. And you got that little man of yours,” Marcel said, turning a playful smirk to his captain. <br/><br/>“Yes. Yes I do. Keep us steady Marcel, get us to harbour or at least safe waters,” Arturo told the man, listening to his ‘aye, aye’ as he descended.<br/><br/>Pausing at his door, Arturo glanced back to see Raicheal running a whetstone over her axe. Her eyes glaring at Arturo’s door. He shook his head and sighed, and opened the way to his quarters. Only then did Raicheal slip her axe into the loop at her hip and descend below decks.<br/><br/>Closing the door behind him, Arturo pulled off his tricorn hat and put it on a nearby peg. Walking into the small little place of privacy he had, Arturo stopped when he saw the stranger laying naked upon his hammock. His hands drifted to his cutlass, though his eyes ran across the naked skin of the former captive. <br/><br/>“Who are you?” Arturo asked, drawing his blade and taking a step forward. His toe hit one of the manacles that had been around the man’s wrist, making the chain rattle across the floor.<br/><br/>“You may call me Ohtli. And I must thank you for getting me off that ship. I have never been one for chains,” the man said and slipped his legs over the edge of the hammock, keeping them open wide and revealing everything to Arturo’s eyes as they moved along the tuft of hair from navel to erection.<br/><br/>His lust swirled through him, and his own cock stiffened again, pressing firmly against his trousers.<br/><br/>“How’d you get out of those chains?” Arturo demanded, and Ohtli shrugged, before gesturing at the floor. Arturo glanced downwards, seeing the man’s discarded garments as well as the manacles and chains.<br/><br/>The iron looked melted and torn. Raicheal’s fear came storming at him all at once. Arturo shot his head upwards, but Ohtli wasn’t there.<br/><br/>A curse on his lips Arturo spun to get his first mate, and instead came face to face with Ohtli. The man’s hand clasped around the captain’s throat and picked him up with ease. A simple slap numbed Arturo’s fingers, and his sabre clattered on the floor.<br/><br/>Both hands clawing at the fingers digging into his neck, Arturo was powerless against the other man as he was slammed against the wall. The power he held in him was intense, and Arturo was beginning to suspect that whatever Ohtli was, he wasn’t human.<br/><br/>He should have listened to Raicheal.<br/><br/>Legs kicked desperately against Ohtli’s chins and the wall of his cabin, Arturo hoped someone would hear. Until he remembered Marcel’s words. The way he himself had been staring at Ohtli since discovering him. The kicking would only make everyone think an entirely different dance was happening.<br/><br/>Ohtli was smiling up at Arturo, who felt utterly powerless. Weak. And worst of all, still intensely aroused.<br/><br/>Lowered until his toes just barely touched the ground, Arturo struggled to find breath. Struggled against his own flesh as it demanded more of what was happening to him. Or perhaps that was his mind. He wasn’t sure now as Ohtli came forward. The firmness of his broad chest against Arturo’s shirt, the hard length of his cock pressing against Arturo’s thigh.<br/><br/>Then the press of those beautiful lips against his own. Arturo couldn’t stop the choking muffled moan, those lips everything he had hoped they would be. The smooth skin of Ohtli against the stubble colouring his own jaw. His lips opened, and Ohtli’s tongue thrust inwards. Almost pushed into his throat.<br/><br/>Ashamed of himself for how badly he wanted this, despite having no say in it, Arturo relented. His hands glided along the arm holding him against the wall, feeling the strength, the power in it. Ohtli grunted into the overwhelming kiss, tearing open Arturo’s shirt. Fingers dragged along the now exposed skin.<br/><br/>The kiss broke, and Arturo was set back upon the floor. He gasped for breath, unable to put up even a token resistance as he was spun around and pushed against the wall. Ohtli grabbed the back of Arturo’s coat and pulled down. The captain’s arms were pulled back as the garment was forcibly removed and discarded upon the floor.<br/><br/>“You are mine now Captain,” Ohtli breathed into Arturo’s ear, and the man could only let out a low groan in response as he was pushed hard against the wall again. His bared skin pressing against the wooden planks as Ohtli undid his belt and pulled the trousers from his hips exposing his ass. Arturo’s cock sprang up, catching awkwardly against the wall, but still he didn’t move.<br/><br/>Trousers around his knees, Arturo knew what was coming. Knew he was powerless to stop it. And he craved it all the more. Planting his hands against the wall as Ohtli spat on his cock, those strong hands soon grasped his hips. The stranger’s cock pushed into the cleft of his ass, smearing saliva against the pressing skin, until the head pressed against his entrance, and a shiver of need ran up his spine.<br/><br/>“Fuck me,” he mumbled into the wall, and Ohtli grunted.<br/><br/>Without any other warning Ohtli’s hips shoved forward, ramming himself into Arturo’s ass. The captain moaned hungrily, feeling himself stretching around the cock burrowed in him. His own prick twitched against the wall while Ohtli immediately began to thrust. Arturo’s hips bounced against the wall, his cock dragging along the wood as he moaned. His trousers around his knees kept him from doing anything properly, and so he tried to respond with pushing his ass back. Ohtli’s ramming pace though kept him tight against the wall, the bruising pain mixing with the intense pleasure.<br/><br/>Fingers curled, and nails scraped against the wall as Arturo kept his forehead pressed against the wood. Until Ohtli pulled one hand from a hip, and grasped Arturo’s ponytail. Pulling back firmly, pain flared beautifully in his scalp as he was made to stare at the ceiling as those thrusts continued, forming bruises across the front of his hips.<br/><br/>Through it all the pleasure climbed in his loins, and it did not take long for a hungry moan to spill from Arturo’s lips. Cum shot down the wall in long streaks. It dribbled towards the floor making small puddles even as Ohtli continued his savage thrusts forward.<br/><br/>“All mine now,” Ohtli said, and Arturo just groaned again, his cock hardening all over again as he stared upwards.<br/><br/>Ohtli continued, making a steady thump against the walls with his toy’s hips. When he finally finished, his hot sticky cum shot inside Arturo. A few last deep thrusts smeared his seed along the tight walls of pressing flesh and Arturo’s knees nearly buckled as he clutched to the wall.<br/><br/>As Ohtli pulled out, a drop of his cum fell and spattered down the back of Arturo’s thigh, as more slowly seeped from him. Panting against the wall as Ohtli released his grip, Arturo tried to regain his composure, but failed. Instead he stood there, feeling Ohtli’s cum slowly dribbling from the cleft of his ass and down his thighs.<br/><br/>“Yes,” he eventually said, feeling a weight lifted as that single word spilled into the room. He felt, free.<br/><br/>Ohtli chucked, that rough sound that scraped across Arturo’s brain and his lusts. The captain couldn’t find a response in himself, so glanced towards the window to see the darkness outside. <br/><br/>He blinked; it had been daylight when he entered. They had not been fucking that long.<br/><br/>Then he saw the flash of lightning in the distance.<br/><br/>“Fuck,” he said, pushing off the wall, and Ohtli allowed him. Pulling up his trousers, feeling the cum smearing across his skin, Arturo rushed for the door without grabbing his coat or hat. As he passed Ohtli and cast a shadow across him, he could swear he saw something squirming in the darkness. When he looked back though, there was no sign of it.<br/><br/>Plunging out into the rain that cascaded across his skin, he looked to the skies. At the roiling clouds that had seemed to come from no where. There were already crew dashing about, and the helmsman was struggling to keep control of the ship.<br/><br/>“Get those fucking sails up,” Arturo shouted at one sailor, who nodded and ran off to do as he was bid. Cursing to himself as more crew members emerged from below decks, Arturo climbed down into the hold to find his first mate.<br/><br/>Down at the bow of the ship she had her own quarters. He pushed the door open without knocking, and saw her pulling on her shirt. Two men were clambering out of the tub that she had brought on board for herself, trying to avoid their captain’s gaze with sheepish expression. A drop of cum was falling from the tip of the taller one’s softening cock.<br/><br/>Glancing over after covering her breasts, Raicheal shrugged.<br/><br/>“I heard the storm. I’m coming up,” she said, wiping away a white glob from her upper lip and pushing past Arturo.<br/><br/>The captain glanced back once at the men who were hurrying to dress, before following after his first mate.<br/><br/>She made quick time to the ladder, getting up on deck and immediately shouting orders as the storm began to wash over them. Rain made the deck slick, and men were hurrying to stow barrels in the hold.<br/><br/>“I thought we agreed, no fucking the crew,” Arturo said, and Raicheal raised an eyebrow as she looked to him.<br/><br/>“And what of your new toy?” Raicheal asked, before turning to shout at someone else to get up on the rigging. <br/><br/>“That’s different,” Arturo said, and looked out to the sea as the waves rose higher. The <em>Plaga Trebol</em> rode the crests, but it would get dangerous soon. <br/><br/>“Why, because you’re his toy?” Raicheal said, and Arturo frowned as he looked back at the woman, her hair plastered to her skull from the rain, her skin showing through her shirt.<br/><br/>“What do you know of him?” Arturo demanded, and Raicheal paused to look at her captain.<br/><br/>“He is of the depths. He isn’t human. He’s a danger to the souls of all those on this ship,” she said, and Arturo glanced back at the doors to his cabin as he remembered the hint of something in the shadows. As he looked he could swear he saw the door closing.<br/><br/>“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Arturo asked.<br/><br/>“I told you to kill him, but you were already in his thrall. Anything else you wouldn’t have believed,” she said, and Arturo grunted as a streak of lightning lit the world a moment.<br/><br/>“Is it too late then?” Arturo asked, and Raicheal stared at him, studying him.<br/><br/>“I don’t know. Is it?” she asked, and Arturo found himself glancing away. Raicheal grunted, before a shout from above got their attention.<br/><br/>A man had slipped in the rigging and was caught by his foot. Raicheal immediately started to climb upwards. As she clambered upwards, Arturo inspected the ship. The sails had been stowed, and most of the loose gear on the deck was in the hold now. So long as the mast stayed upright they would be okay. Wiping excess water from his face he looked out to sea, and saw a large wave coming upon their aft.<br/><br/>“Helmsman,” Arturo shouted, pointing back. Marcel glanced back and nodded, spinning the wheel to best ride the wave. Raicheal and the crew man were still up in the rigging though.<br/><br/>She had just reached him, cutting him loose and helping him get back onto the ropes. She shouted something, her words lost to the storm, and the man began to scamper back down to the deck. She stayed up high, securing the ropes she’d cut loose.<br/><br/>The man had just reached the deck and grasped onto the railing. Arturo himself took hold of the bannister beside him as the wave crashed into the back of the ship. Marcel shouted, but the <em>Plaga Trebol</em> rode the water upwards, even as the heavy splash of the wave washed across the ship. The sailor on deck managed to keep his grip, but Arturo watched as Raicheal was knocked from the rigging and carried out to the dark depths.<br/><br/>He stared at where she had been just a moment ago, and swore. <br/><br/>~*~<br/><br/>With his first mate washed out to sea, Arturo had to oversee keeping his ship above the waves entirely himself. The night had been exhausting, and he was soaked to the bone. But as the grey light of an overcast dawn overtook the world, he leaned against the railing at the bow of his ship and looked across the much calmer waves. <br/><br/>There was no sign of Raicheal, but Arturo didn’t let that concern him. Instead he rubbed at his eyes and turned to start walking back to his cabin. Again he noticed the door closing just as his eyes settled upon it. Running hands across his face again, pushing stray locks of hair from his vision, he started walking towards the room where his hammock waited.<br/><br/>And Ohtli.<br/><br/>Despite his fatigue, he felt a surge of pure want run through him. He closed his eyes, picturing that exposed dark skin.<br/><br/>“Sails to half mast. Let’s coast for a bit boys,” Arturo called, and tired sailors nodded, carefully climbing up into the rigging to drop the sails.<br/><br/>“Get them sails inspected while you’re up there,” Marcel called out from the helm. He’d need to be relieved soon. Poor bastard had been going all night.<br/><br/>Arturo looked up at the man, shivering as he kept the wheel turning. But everyone was wet and cold.<br/><br/>“Marcel, make sure you have someone dry out and get some sleep to replace you soon,” Arturo called up to his helmsman, and the man gave a nod, even as he watched the sails being carefully unfurled from above.<br/><br/>“Get some sleep captain. I’ve got it from here,” Marcel said, and Arturo nodded as he continued to his door.<br/><br/>Reaching out he grasped the simple handles and took a breath. Raicheal’s words wormed through his mind, and he wasn’t sure what waited for him on the other side of the door. Or even if he had the strength to resist it.<br/><br/>Worse, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.<br/><br/>Opening the door and stepping inside, Arturo was shocked at the scene playing out before him. He quickly shut the door behind him, and stared.<br/><br/>A young sailor named Isaac was bent over Arturo’s hammock. He was naked, and moaning as Ohtli thrust into him from behind. The young man didn’t even look up as Arturo entered. He was twisted to look back at the creature that ravaged him from behind, even as cum dribbled in arcs across the floor. His moans were deep and needy, but sounded almost tired as Ohtli continued to fuck him.<br/><br/>Ohtli though was not simply the gorgeous man that Arturo had left behind. He had let slip whatever disguise he had worn, and the man he fucked seemed too far entranced to even care. Aturo knew that he was in the same boat as he looked at the thick tentacles hanging from the man’s lower face. Dark eyes stared at Arturo, with spined fins jutting from his elbows and shoulders, while Ohtli continued to fuck Isaac.<br/><br/>“Behold, what owns you,” Ohtli said amid Isaac’s moans of pleasure, and Arturo could only bring himself to stand there. He glanced once to his sabre laying upon the floor, but could not bring himself to move to it, so simply looked back to the carnal scene before him.<br/><br/>“And what will own your crew soon enough,” Ohtli said, reaching forward to grasp Isaac by the jaw.<br/><br/>The demon lifted Isaac upwards, his hips never slowing their savage thrusts. Isaac was made to bend upwards, and Arturo recognized the desperation, the need in the man’s moans, in the look of pleasure on his face. He had worn it earlier. Taking a step forward, Arturo could only bring himself to watch as Isaac’s mouth was brought to the mass of tentacles.<br/><br/>A soft moan poured from Isaac, while the tendrils before him parted to reveal a circular maw ringed with small fangs that slowly shifted. A shiver of fear ran down Arturo’s spine, but he didn’t even glance to the blade resting but two paces from where he stood.<br/><br/>Something slithered deep in the shadows of Ohtli’s maw, as Isaac’s mouth was pulled close. Tentacles caressed his cheeks, his neck, while Isaac’s lips were pulled tight. There was a slick sound and a choking sound cut off the next moans as Ohtli’s hips continued to viciously thrust, Isaac’s hard cock bouncing between his legs, twitching with the pleasures.<br/><br/>The sailor’s throat bulged, something pushing its way downwards. Othli pushed Isaac forward then, and Arturo saw something like an eel vanishing past the sailor’s lips. Hands grasping the man’s hips, Ohtli continued to thrust into him as whatever he’d left finished it’s crawl downwards, the bulge in his throat vanishing as if nothing had happened. The tiny bleeding marks around his mouth though told all that Arturo needed to know.<br/><br/>Then Isaac’s eyes opened again. Like pools of ink, the man stared at his captain as crimson dribbled over his lips and chin. He groaned hungrily, cum shooting across the floor, a rope lacing across the toe of Arturo’s boot.<br/><br/>Only then did Ohtli pulled himself free. His seed dripping from his conquest as Isaac wordless stood and moved to the pile of clothing by the door. Without a word to his captain, the sailor dressed himself before slipping out into the pale light of the dawn. Arturo didn’t watch him leave, his eyes only for the demon before him. It was only the sound of the door closing at his back that told the pirate captain that he was alone with this monster he’d brought aboard.<br/><br/>“Is that to be my fate as well? A thrall?” Arturo said, and the deep rumbling laugh of his seducer almost seemed to throb inside his skull. Lust spreading through his brain like spiderwebs, impossible to ignore.<br/><br/>“Why would I need to? You’ve submitted so eagerly,” Ohtli said, moving around the hammock and stopping in front of Arturo. He loomed over the man, his dark skin cast in shadows, and Arturo reached out. Fingers ran over that perfectly sculpted flesh, the flesh that pulled at all his desires. <br/><br/>“What do you want?” Arturo made himself ask.<br/><br/>“A ship, and a crew is a good start,” Ohtli said, his powerful hands grasping Arturo’s shoulders and spun him around until the edge of the hammock was against the back of his thighs. <br/><br/>“To what end?” Arturo asked as Ohtli started to pull at his clothes, and desire sparked in his mind. He helped the demon, kicking off his boots and forcing his trousers down to the floor. When Ohtli pushed him back into the hammock all his wore was the soaked and opened shirt that clung to his shoulders and back.<br/><br/>“Does it matter? You’ll help me regardless because you care only for your own wants. You are a selfish man Arturo, and what you want stands before you. So like a good little concubine, you’ll take your ship to the ends of the earth for me. You’ll let me consume your crew, and continue your little reign of terror upon the sea,” Ohtli said, sliding between Arturo’s opened legs. The demon grasped the captain’s hard cock, lifting it, and a single hand pushed him back to expose his rear. <br/><br/>“Fuck,” Arturo said, leaning his head back, knowing the demon spoke the truth. It stung to hear it, but when that cum slathered cock pressed against his rear once more, his legs opened wider. <br/><br/>Ohtli leaned over him, and thrust inwards. His flesh opened Arturo and the captain moaned to his ceiling as tentacles teased across his chest. Long trails of saliva traced across his hot skin, and Arturo let out a groan as Ohtli continued his savage thrusts. The demon’s fingers curled around his concubine’s cock and began to stroke, palm gliding along that sensitive skin until pearls of pre-cum dribbled down the length of the shaft.<br/><br/>Arturo’s body rocked in the hammock, guided by his own greedy hips and the thrusts of the creature that had claimed him in body and soul. His fingers glided over the form above him, from the familiar expanse of human like flesh to the fish like fins that jutted from his back.<br/><br/>The ship gently rocked upon the gentle seas as Arturo moaned like a whore, giving himself to this beast. Forging a pact with his own lust as the demon’s cock plunged into the tight hole of his ass. The stroking never ceased, pleasure building inside him until he felt himself release. Ropes of cum shot upwards, splashing across Ohtli’s stomach, chest, and even catching a few tentacles.<br/><br/>One of the tendrils, a pearly white streak smeared across its tip, reached to Arturo’s lips. The captain obediently opened his mouth, letting his master, his seducer, push it over his tongue. The taste of the sea flooded his senses, the salt of his own release smearing across his tongue as the demon continue to fuck him, his cock still hard in Ohtli’s still stroking hand.<br/><br/>When eventually the demon came, the hot sticky seed shooting inside Arturo’s rear, he knew he was lost. A damned soul that had given himself to darkness for a good fuck. But, he couldn’t bring himself to feel shame or guilt. Even as that hard cock smeared cum inside him, Arturo only felt lust.<br/><br/>~*~<br/><br/>Three days had passed that the ship coasted across the waves. Ohtli no longer bothered to conceal himself though he remained within Arturo’s cabin. His cabin now the pirate supposed as his lips trailed along the cock that had taken him so many times since the demon had been brought aboard.<br/><br/>The taste of orgasm flooded Arturo’s senses as his lips slid up and down the shaft he had become near addicted to. He felt the throbbing tension in the flesh he kept in his watering mouth, drooling over the demon’s prick. Over his own chin and naked chest. <br/><br/>Ohtli’s deep groan of pleasure from behind that mask of tentacle was the only warning Arturo had. Though he didn’t need one, as cum shot inside his mouth. He didn’t know how many times he’d swallowed Ohtli’s release these past few days, nor did he care anymore. As he pulled off the demon’s cock he swallowed, letting that hot semen slide down his throat as he went to find his pants. <br/><br/>Ohtli said nothing as Arturo pulled on his trousers and moved to the door. There was no where to escape to, nor did Arturo want escape. Stepping out into daylight he glanced over his shoulder to see Marcel dutifully at the helm. Ohtli’s mark around his mouth as inky eyes stared across the waves ahead. The helmsman said nothing, his soul gone, and instead simply did his duty. <br/><br/>Arturo’s eyes ran across those few other sailors on deck at the moment, all of them bearing the same mark. His crew, now Ohtli’s thralls. He was the only one left still human aboard the <em>Plaga Trebol</em>, though he wondered if others would be so willing to call him that, knowing what he had so eagerly invited aboard his ship.<br/><br/>Walking towards the bow, he heard one of the crew members call out, the words emotionless.<br/><br/>“Cast away,” the sailor thrall had said, and Arturo frowned; there hadn’t been any signs of wreckage, or even other ships for days. Then, as he heard someone climbing, he couldn’t help but let out a humourless laugh and wondered if retribution was coming his way.<br/><br/>Crew members began to gather with cutlasses in hand, and Arturo waited as he saw the first hand grasp the railing.<br/><br/>The owner pulled herself up, and Raicheal stood facing the soulless crew. Water dripped off her naked form, her boarding axe clutched firmly in one hand.<br/><br/>“What took you so long?” Arturo asked coming forward, gesturing with his hand for the crew to stay back. They would disobey at a mere thought from Ohtli, but there was still semblance of loyalty to him among the thralls.<br/><br/>Raicheal’s eyes scanned the marked men, and their empty eyes. Her fingers flexed around the haft of her axe, and she stood ready to fight, but soon her eyes settled on Arturo, studying him. Looking for marks the captain guessed.<br/><br/>“You went off course in the storm. Took a few days to find you,” she said, and Arturo nodded. “It’s far too late now.”<br/><br/>“It is. Though, I will always welcome you back to the crew,” Arturo admitted, even as he heard the doors to his cabin open. The heavy footsteps of Othli coming forth. He stood behind Arturo in all his glory, both hands upon the captain’s shoulders. <br/><br/>“I think now is the time I put in for retirement,” she said, moving back towards the railing, as a few of the crew drew flintlocks, aiming at her form.<br/><br/>“Do you think I would allow you to hunt me?” Ohtli said, and Raicheal laughed bitterly.<br/><br/>“Hunt you. I couldn’t give two bloody shits for what you do. I just wanted to protect this crew. Take the whole damn world if you want, there will always be somewhere to steal gold and find a good lay,” Raicheal said, and the demon laughed at that.<br/><br/>“We shall meet again I am sure. As enemies perhaps,” Ohtli said, and Arturo shivered at the sensation of tentacles across the back of his neck.<br/><br/>“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Until then Arturo, it was a hell of a time,” she said, and leaned back until she fell over the edge of the ship again. <br/><br/>Arturo pulled himself from Ohtli’s fingers to look down at the spreading ripples where Raicheal had vanished. The only hint of her he saw was a fish tail vanishing into the depths. With a heavy sigh, he rubbed at his forehead.<br/><br/>Until the lookout called from the crow’s nest.<br/><br/>“Ship on the horizon. Merchant vessel,” his voice carried to the deck below.<br/><br/>Immediately Arturo was running to the bow. Grasping the rigging he pulled himself up to stare out a the distant ship. A ship that might well be full of gold, cargo, and doubtlessly full of souls.<br/><br/>“Crew. Prepare the Jolly Roger. We have a ship to catch,” Arturo said with a wicked grin.<br/><br/><br/></p>

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